


Lust and Green Apple Martinis

by QueQueDabbles



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco is a little too drunk, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry and Draco reconnect in a pub years later and bond over their media exploits, M/M, consent is important
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:53:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24537289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueQueDabbles/pseuds/QueQueDabbles
Summary: Harry and Draco meet again in a pub years later and find they have a bit more in common than they used to. Too bad Draco has had a bit too much to drink.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Minor or Background Relationship(s), past Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy - Relationship, past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley - Relationship
Kudos: 73





	Lust and Green Apple Martinis

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up going in a different direction than I'd planned and honestly I might still write the other version but I'm posting this one because it's written. I wasn't sure if I wanted to write smut so this cuts off before the action, because Harry knows you can't consent when you're drunk (and a less horny and drunk Draco would agree), so this cuts off. There may eventually be a second chapter but for now this is it. Hope you like it!
> 
> (And obviously these characters aren't mine they are JK Rowling's)

The bar lighting is so dim that at first Harry doesn't even notice him, sitting alone in the darkest corner of the bar. He sits by himself, hunched over his drink at the bar, his shoulder practically pressed into the wall. It isn't until someone jostles him on the way to the bathroom and Harry hears his voice, just for a second, and looks up in time to see striking blond hair disappearing back underneath his hood that recognition hits. 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione are squeezed into their normal booth at a wizarding pub right on the edge of Muggle London, just like they have been every Friday night for the last four years, almost without fail. They had found this place entirely by accident, when Harry and Ron had worked a case for the Ministry that led to a raid just down the street. Afterwards they'd wanted a drink and noticed the pub, its front windows darkened, it's sign old and weathered. When they found out that the barkeep had a strict no media presence rule, and that any pestering of patrons would no be tolerated, it was basically a done deal. They'd been coming here ever since, the reprieve from prying eyes well worth the slightly overpriced and mediocre firewisky and the slightly charred food. 

Draco Malfoy, however, was a new presence, one that Harry had not expected. Though, with his recent popularity in the slander columns of the Daily Prophet, Harry supposes he shouldn't be surprised that the blond had found reprieve here too. 

Ron and Hermione, who had been debating the merits of letting Mrs. Weasly take over their wedding plans (Hermione arguing that she'll organize it to her wishes, not their own; Ron arguing that saying no to his mother was sure to guarantee a painful death - to which Hermione huffs that at nearly thirty years old, Ron should realize he's well past the age where it's alright to be afraid of your mother), finally seem to notice Harry's preoccupation, as their banter peters off with confused looks. 

"What is it, mate?" Ron asks.

"Malfoy." Harry says.

Ron and Hermione share a glance. They hadn't heard that name come out of Harry's mouth in a while. "What about him, Harry?" Hermione asks tentatively. In the past, the name Malfoy had often been tightly connected to Harry's temper. 

"He's...here." 

Ron and Hermione's eyes flare wide, and their heads swivel around to look in the same direction Harry had.

"Are you sure, Harry?" Hermione asks carefully.

"That could be anyone, mate," Ron says, immediately brushing aside Harry's assertion and taking another gulp of his butterbeer. "It's just a bloke sitting alone at a bar. That's not exactly uncommon in this joint." 

"No, I saw him," Harry says, "He turned around just for a moment." Harry isn't sure exactly what his voice sounds like, but Hermione seems to catch on that there's no heat to it, but rather, something oddly like curiosity. 

Ron shrugs. "Well, even if it is him, I suppose we shouldn't really be surprised that he's found a hide-out, should we? Leave the git alone to his drink, there's no need to bother with him today, Harry. It's been a long time." Ron slaps him on the back in a way Harry assumes is supposed to be reassuring. "It's been a long time since we've had to deal with the likes of him, I don't fancy changing that today." 

"I'm not going to bother him," Harry says. His eyes haven't left the cloaked back since he spotted the man. Something odd is stirring in him, he can't really tell what it is. But if he's being entirely honest with himself, the blond man had been on his mind a lot in the last week. Ever since he'd seen that first article, he'd been there in the back off his mind, thoughts gnawing at him that he wasn't quite ready to understand. Sitting in the bar now, though, they're rising up, becoming just a bit more familiar. 

"Harry," Hermione asks carefully. She's studying him, though different from when she was worried that he might start something with Malfoy. Rather than being worried for him, she's worried about him. She seems to understand sooner than Ron does. "It's different, Harry." 

"Not really, no." Harry says, absently. Once anger might have surged in him at her statement, but he knows she just doesn't understand. Can't understand.

"It's not the same situation, Harry." Hermione presses. Harry brushes her off and starts to stand. 

"I'm going to go talk to him." He needs to. 

"Mate!" Ron nearly chokes on his drink, but Harry's already striding away. Hermione and Ron can't do anything without making a scene and risking getting tossed out. If asked, Harry wouldn't be able to explain what's going through his head beyond a strange certainty that he has to talk to Malfoy. Has to tell him... has to tell him that he understands. 

Before he knows it, he's standing right behind Malfoy's barstool, and it strikes him that he has no idea how to start this. He hasn't talked to the bloke in almost ten years. Malfoy had worked in the Ministry for much of the same time that Harry had, but they'd never worked in the same circles, never run into each other. They'd made eye contact across rooms, when they were both made to attend the same functions, but had never actually talked to each other. In the early days, it was likely to prevent the possibility of old resentments rising to the surface. Eventually, he figures, it just became habit to avoid each other. 

Until this moment. 

Just as Harry starts to reach out to tap his shoulder, the blond stirs, turning with a scowl on his face. "Look, mate, I don't know-" he cuts himself off when he realizes who's standing behind him, surprise slackening his face momentarily before he closes it off, a carefully blank face replacing the shock.

"Hi Ma-Draco." Harry murmurs, stopping himself from using his last name. He figures opening with Draco's name will show that he's grown up, that things have changed and he's not here to be antagonistic. 

Draco looks at him warily. "Potter," he says slowly. Harry smiles slightly in response. "What can I do for you?" His face is cautious, and he looks like the last thing he wants to do right now is something for Harry. Now that Harry's close to him, he can also tell that this isn't Draco's first drink. His pupils are slightly dilated. Not to mention how rough he looks - his usually meticulous hair looks like he's run his fingers through it multiple times, and there are dark circles under his eyes that Harry had at first assumed were shadows cast by the dim lighting. Underneath his cloak he's wearing a simple pull over and plain trousers. He's completely missing his usual flare.

Harry recognizes the look, and the feeling in his stomach rises again. He starts to realize it's a mix of sympathy and recognition. 

"I don't want anything from you. I just saw you sitting here and came to say hello. And maybe... maybe ask if you'd like to come sit with us?" 

Before Draco can fully absorb this surprising proposal, the barkeep sidles over and levels Harry with a weighty look. "You know the rules; no pestering. No special exceptions. This guy bothering you?" He directs his question towards Draco, though his eyes don't leave Harry. After a moment of consideration, Draco tilts his head slightly towards the man. 

"No, just an old friend. It's alright." 

The barkeep nods and moves back down the bar, taking another order. Harry finds himself smiling slightly again at Draco calling him an old friend. 

"Old friend, huh?" 

"Hush, Potter. It seemed easier than saying enemy or rival - that wasn't likely to assure him we were fine." 

Harry's crooked smile doesn't fall; if anything, it kicks up higher. "So?"

"So" Draco lifts and eye, and now Harry's lips twist fully into a wry smile. 

"So, would you like to join me at my booth or not?"

Draco lifts a pale eyebrow and leans back on his stool to look behind Harry at Ron and Hermione, who are openly gaping at them. He offers them a small smirk and a finger wave. Harry bites back a chuckle. "It's fine, they'll behave. I promise." 

Draco studies him for a minute, his brow furrowed. Harry doesn't blame him; he'd be surprised if their roles were reversed as well - he'd probably be asking if he should be checking Draco into St. Mungo's. He looks innocently at Draco. 

Draco doesn't buy it. "Why? What's in it for you? Why the act?" 

Harry sighs. "No act, I swear. It's just...I've seen the papers." Draco's face shutters, going dark and stand-offish. Harry hurries to continue. "No, no... it's just. I'm sure you saw the papers four years ago. I just...I thought you could use someone who understood what you’re going through." Harry shoves his hands into the pockets of his trousers and looks down at the ground, unable to look into his face. 

Draco is silent for so long that Harry is about to turn and walk about, when he notices movement and looks up in surprise to see Draco standing and grabbing his drink. For a second Harry's afraid the drink is about to be thrown in his face, but Draco lifts and eyebrow and motions towards the booth. "Lead the way, O Savior."

Harry startles, and then turns on his heel before Draco can change his mind. Ron and Hermione look at him in astonishment as they see him leading Draco back to the booth, but he looks at them sternly and they close their gaping mouths. Harry slides into the booth across from them, and after only a second's hesitation, Draco slides in next to him. 

"Ron, Hermione, you remember Draco." He uses his first name on purpose, and their eyes nearly bug out of their heads. He'd find it almost comical if it weren't annoying him so much. Hermione is the first one to gain her composure, and she smiles brightly at him - only a small bit of forcefulness behind it. 

"Of course, good to see you again...Draco." Draco quirks his lips hesitantly at her. She elbows Ron in the side while still smiling a little too brightly.

"Oh, er, right. Hey...mate." Ron looks like he's tasted something sour, but Harry is still proud of Ron. Things are silent for a moment and then Ron takes a big gulp of air and looks Draco in the eye. "So, mate, what did you think about the last Quidditch match?" 

Two hours later and significantly less sober, the four of them have all relaxed into each other. The trio was happily surprised to find that with age and a lack of dark lords and family looming over his head, Draco had quite the wry sense of humour. He had them in fits of laughter through the whole night, and now, with liquor loosening her up, Hermione is wiping away the tears streaming down her face.  
Draco is leaning on Harry, his arm slung around the shorter man's shoulders. Harry is laughing, his body warm and fluttery surrounded by laughter, dim lights, and Draco's breath, which smells sweet from the green apple martini he'd been drinking. He had decided to stop drinking a while back, when he started to feel his body reacting to the combination of alcohol and Draco's close proximity, but the others had yet to notice, and if he acted a little more drunk than he was to keep it that way, well, who was to know? 

"So, you three've been mysteriously absent from the news the last few years. Especially you, Mr. Golden Boy," Draco stabs a finger clumsily against Harry's chest. "Why is that? Moved to the countryside with the she-weasel to start a little family?" 

The trio's laughter dims, and Ron’s flush deepens to a darker shade of red, but Draco seems to notice and waves an absent-minded hand. "No offense intended, mate. Old habits, old habits." He seems to have missed out on Harry and Hermione's silence, so Harry clears his throat. 

"Well, you may recall the very public announcements of our break-up four years ago. We certainly haven't moved to the countryside to start a family since then." His palms have gotten sweaty, though he knew this would come up eventually. Had intended it, hadn't he, when he invited Draco to join them? 

Draco squints for a moment, then - "Ah! Yes," his eyes light in recognition, then he frowns. "So, it was true? I assumed it was a load of rubbish - they had nothing to back up their claims, and you weren't making any statements, and you all but disappeared shortly after. Then she moved to Wales to join the Holyhead Harpies, so it was all hard to say one way or another." 

Harry smirks for a moment. "Tracking me in the news, huh Malfoy?" He jokes.

Draco sputters. "No, of course n- I like to stay informed and I couldn't help but see your fat head, staring out from the front page like it was so often! Any observant person would notice the Golden Boy's sudden absence from the news." 

"Well, I haven't been entirely absent. I've been in the Quibbler a few times recently." Harry laughs at Draco, ignoring his gentle jibe.

Draco opens his mouth, clearly about to make a scathing comment about the Quibbler, and Harry raises a challenging eyebrow at him. He clamps his mouth shut again with an audible click, and Harry offers him another smirk, lifts his glass, clinks it against Draco's nearly empty martini, and downs the rest of it (water) in one go. 

"So, where have you been?" Draco asks instead. 

Harry blushes and looks down. "Well, I got sick of being an Auror pretty fast – after spending my entire adolescence fighting, I quickly realized I'd had enough of it. I stayed long enough to make sure things were relatively stable after the war, but after a few years I quit. I helped out at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes for a little while with Ron and George, but they got into a good rhythm and I wanted to move on. By that point Andromeda - your aunt - was getting older, so I took over care of my godson, Teddy, from her. I got a small house on the outskirts of Muggle London and... and I've been working at a daycare there where I have Teddy enrolled." He looks down at his fingers, his face flushing deeper. He doesn't know why he wants Draco to like this life choice, but he does. He was very proud of it, and he'd found more joy in teaching the young ones (and the fact that none of them new his past) than he had ever expected. 

"Wow." Draco whispers, and Harry looks up startled, right into Draco's wide green eyes, which are much closer than he had expected. Draco's body is entirely turned to face him now, as if he'd been enthralled in what Harry was saying, and Harry isn't sure exactly when his arm had come to rest on the top of the booth behind him. Harry had the distinct feeling of being penned in – and, unfortunately, was not disliking the notion.

"Wait," Draco blinks, his face scrunching like he's trying to focus very hard on something through the fog of alcohol. "So, what you've really been saying through this whole story is that you're really not together with the sh- I mean, the Weasley girl, and the rumours from four years ago were, in fact, not rumours at all, but true?" Draco looks intently at Harry. 

Harry doesn't break the stare. "Yes," he says clearly.

Hermione clears her throat very loudly all of a sudden, and Draco and Harry's heads swing in her direction. Harry flushes a bit again, realizing he'd completely ignored the presence of his friends. She smiles brightly, shoving at Ron's side. "Terribly sorry, but it's getting late and Ron and I really have to go home."

Ron looks at her confused, "Wha-"

"We have to go home," she says strongly, narrowing her eyes at him while maintaining her smile. She pinches his side lightly, making him yelp, and he quickly allows her to shuffle him out of the booth. 

"Right, right, I forgot, we ah- we have to go, terribly sorry mate. We'll see you soon. Draco," he nods awkwardly, and with a final wave the two of them are quickly out the door and gone into the night. 

Draco and Harry stare after them in shock for a moment, not quite sure what had just happened.

"That was odd," Draco says with a raised eyebrow. Harry makes a grunting noise in agreement. 

Draco narrows his eyes back at Harry. "So, it's true? You're gay? And that's why you and the Weaslette broke up?" 

Harry chuckles, enjoying the fact that Draco has become so much bolder now that his friends are gone. He assumes he's never had many people he could openly say that word around. 

"Well, for one, yes, those news articles were my way of coming out, my lack of statement a statement in and of itself. Secondly, we didn't break up because of that; we had actually already broken up because we'd realized we were better off as friends, then we both had our sexual awakening and pretended to date for a while longer. But then Ginny and Luna decided they wanted to make a go of things, so we broke up. I took the brunt of it so that they wouldn't have to start their relationship dealing with all of that. They both moved to Wales soon after to avoid any more fallout. Forgive me for the fact that my coming out wasn't as clear and flashy as having pictures of myself with my lover in the act splashed across the front page, while having a wife at home waiting for me."

Harry meant it as a tease, but Draco, who had been listening raptly, winces and shifts away. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean - that was rude of me. I know it must be hard. Mine was hard enough, without having my private business splashed all over the newspapers." 

"It's fine," Draco says morosely into his glass, and he gulps the rest down in a hurry. "It's true, my coming out was much more indecorous than yours was. I trusted the wrong person, and they decided they needed the money they got by providing those photos of me in my own home, rather than my friendship. And yes, I was married while having the affair. However, Astoria was well aware of the affair. In fact, by the sounds of it, it wasn't so dissimilar from your own situation. Astoria and I had no interest in marrying - she with anyone, I with a woman - yet our parents were pushing us together, insisting upon our marriage and the producing of an heir. We came up with an arrangement - a loveless marriage, in which we were allowed to do as we pleased. We hadn't expected it to backfire quite so soon."

Harry takes a moment to digest this information, his sympathy shining on his face. He's probably lucky that Draco hadn't looked back at him - he's sure that the blond wouldn't appreciate that sentiment written all over his face.

"Perhaps," Harry starts cautiously, "Perhaps it didn't backfire." 

Draco looks up now, a skeptical eyebrow raised. "Really? The whole world doesn't, in fact, know of my homosexuality, and my marriage isn't ruined?"

"Well, no, I suppose that's all true. But perhaps it isn't a bad thing. I know it's horrible now, trust me, I know it is. But - but maybe it's a gift. The worst of it is over - the truth is out there. You don't have to hide that part of yourself any more. You don't have to live in a loveless marriage and pretend to be someone you're not. You can pursue what you really want."

Draco takes a moment to ponder this and takes a sip from his martini glass, looking like he’s thinking hard about Harry’s words. Harry supposes, however, that in his current state thinking about anything would be quite the tasks. 

“It’s quite the novel thought, isn’t it,” Harry’s lips quirk up in a lopsided smile as Draco’s eyes dart back to him. “Pursuing what you want? Not exactly something you or I have had much of a chance to do, have we?” He snorts, hoping that his (indelicate) expression of humour will soften the truth behind the words.

“Pursuing what we want…” Draco says, and his eyes narrow, and, if possible, his pupils seem even larger now, almost swallowing all the gray of his eyes. “And what is it, that we want, exactly?” 

Harry’s heart thuds, and he tries to slow the rushing of blood at the tone of Draco’s voice, the flirtation that he might not have even noticed in his words. Still, he can’t help but notice the way Draco’s eyes track the motion of his tongue as he wets his lips, and his voice is breathy when he answers. 

“I don’t know, you tell me.” 

Draco’s fingers are suddenly stroking across the back of his hand, where Harry hadn’t even noticed they’d come to rest so close together on the tabletop, and his body is leaning forward slightly, his nostrils flared wide. If Harry didn’t know any better, he’d say that Draco was breathing in his scent. A low growl seems to be coming from the back of his throat, and Harry gulps. 

A shout at the bar behind him draws him out of the spell Draco has him under and suddenly he jolts, eyes darting around and then back to Draco, who is staring at him hungrily. On the way, his eyes snag on the number of empty martini glasses on the table in front of them. 

“I think,” Harry says, voice unexpectedly high. He clears his throat before continuing. “I think what we need is some fresh air. Come on,” and without thinking he tosses a few coins onto the sticky tabletop and grabs Draco’s wrist, all but dragging him out into the cold night air. 

Draco is hot on his heels and they’re barely out the door before Draco is taking the lead, pulling Harry around the corner of the pub and pressing him up against the cold stone wall of an alleyway. 

“Wait!” Harry says, scrambling to stop Draco before his lips can claim Harry’s. Harry can feel Draco’s body almost completely lined up against his, his body heat radiating through both of their cloaks. 

“Why,” Draco growls, straining at his hold. Then he reels back. “Oh, shite, did I totally misread this?” He swears deeply and starts to pull back.

“No!” Harry all but shouts, and pulls him back in. Then he chuckles, his hands planted firmly on Draco’s hips, and drops his head onto the taller man’s shoulder. “No, that’s not it, but I’m not kissing you for the first time when you’re pissed right out of your mind. I’m not that much of a git.” He hesitates and looks up into Draco’s eyes. “I don’t want you to regret anything once you’re sober.” 

Draco rolls his eyes and groans, pulling away. “Of course you’re going to be a bloody Gryffindor on me. You listen to me, Potter,” Draco leans in, his scent nearly overwhelming Harry, making him want to melt into the other man. “The only think I’m going to regret tomorrow is if I don’t get to taste your delectable mouth, tonight.” 

Harry groans and bites his lip, his head falling back against the stone wall. “Merlin, Draco, don’t say things like that to me.” 

“You’re really not going to touch me more than this until I’m sober?” Draco whines. Harry, eyes still pinched shut, nods. “Well, good thing we’re wizards, you bloody idiot. Remember a little thing called a sober up potion?” 

Harry’s eyes fly open to see Draco roll his eyes, and he grins widely. “Malfoy, you’re bloody brilliant! I could kiss you – if that weren’t the whole point of this conversation. I’ve got some at my flat – if you want to come with me?” Harry bites his lip, hoping this isn’t too forward, and Draco rolls his eyes again. 

“Bloody idiot,” he mutters again, as he drunkenly tugs Harry further into the alley. Harry smiles, and the last thing he thinks before he apparates is how glad he is to be a wizard.


End file.
